


Scream for Me

by Writing-Rammstein (writingfanfic)



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Biting, Bloodplay, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Face Slapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 05:54:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13698216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfanfic/pseuds/Writing-Rammstein
Summary: For the prompt: 'The reader teases Till about his obsession with sex after finding out about his art project, Doctor Dick, and then it leads to them having rough sex'...please let me know whether I over or undershot on my definition of 'rough'.





	Scream for Me

“Why are you so obsessed with sex?”

Your words come out in a laugh, and Till looks at you from across the kitchen. It’s warm and cosy, and you’re supposed to be reading a brief from work regarding some clients you’re meeting next week, but you’ve been somewhere else. _doctordick.de_ , to be exact, having a bit of a laugh at the expense of your boyfriend.

“I am not obsessed with sex.” He looks mildly affronted.

“You glued a dildo to… many, many objects, actually.” He leans over and plucks your phone out of your grasp; you gasp, and go to snatch it back. “I mean, there’s been a few hints elsewhere…”

“I am not _obsessed_ with sex,” he says, a little sharply. “I am allowed to use sex in my art and my writing, am I not?” You wink at him. “It is a method to express myself.” He looks at your phone again, and then throws it onto the couch. “I enjoy sex.”

“I’m sure. And that’s why you want hundreds of people wearing ‘Till’s bitch’ wristbands?” you purr, and his eyes narrow. That should be a warning sign - that six-foot of German _Bär_ is narrowing its eyes at you, but you love to wind him up. “Mmm. So let’s put it all together… the dildo cannon… _Pussy_ … Doctor Dick…”

Suddenly, you are being hauled over his shoulder, and you yelp; he marches you out of the living room and into the bedroom, throwing you down onto the bed. You try to sit up, and he grabs your legs, pulling you down and towards him.

“Do you want to see how obsessed I can be?” he asks, his voice dark and gritty, and you stare at him, chest heaving in fear. “You do?” He pushes you down and climbs on top of you; your heart pounds, and as he kisses you, you feel him grab your wrists, and he pulls them above your head. “Hold onto the bedframe. If you let go-” The threat hangs in the air, unfinished, and you find the bar of the metal bedframe, clutching onto it. He smirks, and takes hold of your shirt. “Do you like this shirt?” he asks, and you nod. “I don’t care.” He rips it off of you, with less muscle strength than it takes for you to put it on in the morning, and you gasp a little.

“Till…”

Next second, he grips your chin, and you stare at him.

“Do not.” His tone is level, but his eyes are dark and wolf-like. “You want to see? This is your last chance to say ‘no’.” You swallow, and then nod, and he nods as well - you two have fucked before, but… this is interesting and new. Besides, you don’t truly fear him; he loves you. You’re sure of that. You _trust_ him. “Good.”

He pulls your skirt off, casting it aside - you keep your hands on the rail, and he rips your tights off as well. He gets to your panties, and locks eyes with you, before tearing them off without a second thought, and you swallow sharply. Now you’re wearing only a torn pair of panties and your bra, and all in under two minutes. You’re impressed, and a little scared.

“If you need to stop, say it in… uh, say it in German.” You nod. “That way, I will know you are being serious.” You swallow sharply. “It is _halt_.” He pauses. “Isn’t that the same in English?”

“It’ll do,” you say, quietly, and he grips your chin again.

“Shut up,” he says, and you thrill even as you nod. “Do you understand? What word are you to say?”

“Halt,” you repeat, and he nods.

“Good girl.” He kisses you, biting your lip forcefully, and then forces your head aside. You are trembling; you are honestly a little scared as to what he will do next, and that is a turn-on beyond all reckoning. You’ve only ever skirted around your kinks with Till - at least you know he’s been listening. “I want to fuck you until you scream.”

You gasp, but keep your grip on the bed, and he kisses, so lightly, almost feather-soft, down your body, before you feel his tongue on your stomach. He licks you, ever so gently, and then his teeth sink into your skin and you yelp in pain, the sensation sending thrills between your legs. You feel his mouth travel upwards - the same again, the pain creating so much pleasure that you squirm, and your hand comes off of the bar. This is your first mistake - Till looks up, and even when you grab onto it, he reaches up, palm flush with your cheek.

“Sorry,” you whisper. _Smack_. You jump - the slap doesn’t even _hurt_ , particularly, it’s more of a shock to the system, but then he bites your collarbone and that does hurt. You whimper, almost sobbing, and he looks up at you. He has a bead of blood on his lip where he’s broken the skin.

 _Fuck_ , that’s hot.

He swipes his thumb through the blood - it’s barely more than a papercut, but you can see clear teethmarks - and he grips your hips, unzipping himself just enough to force his pants down.

“Give me what I want, _Liebchen_ ,” he says quietly, and you spread your legs, staring at him. His hands fit around your throat, and he doesn’t squeeze; he waits for a moment. _You know the word - and you really do not want to say it_. And then he slides into you, and you whimper as he grips onto your hips, leaving a red smear on your skin. He is ruthless - you said you wanted obsessed, and you suppose that is what this is, a relentless pursuit of what he can take from you. His hips slam into you, and your arms are beginning to ache, but you daren’t remove them again. His rough hands push your bra up, and he bites at your breasts, leaving them sore but so sensitive, and then pawing at them with his rough hands. The sensations are driving you insane - you need to be touched, you need just that little bit more, but you can’t. You know you can’t. But… maybe he won’t mind.

You remove your hand from the bar. _Slap_. This one stings, and you moan aloud, fingers curling around the cold metal as he slams into you over and over. It’s so frustrating, the feelings - not just the way he’s sliding into you over and over but the sting of his bites, the tingle where he slapped your cheek, his fingerprints in your hips - and the way he’s panting your name, teeth gritted and lip curled, swearing under his breath.

“I want you to scream, bitch,” he slurs, and you moan, knowing that the way he is rolling his hips means he is close. “I want you to… screaming for me. Fucking scream.” He reaches out and grips your neck again, and squeezes. He’s _good_. He knows not to squeeze the windpipe, but as he squeezes either side of your neck, you feel your head swim. “Scream…”

You moan again, and he lets go, leaning his head in, mouth on your neck. You think he’s about to kiss you.

“ _Schrei für mich._ ”

His teeth sink into your neck, and you scream, arching up against him. You hear him groan under his breath, and then his hips ease off, slower and more shallow, until he pushes himself up and slides out of you, wiping the sweat off of his forehead.

There’s a moment where he looks at you, guarded and wary, and you let go - he doesn’t move, and you sit up.

“…do you hate me?” he asks, quietly, and you shake your head.

“That was fucking hot,” you say, and then wince. “And… painful. But hot painful.”

“You did not use the safeword. Was that okay?” he asks again, and you nod. “You did not forget it? You were okay?” You nod, and reach out to touch your rough, beautiful, anxious boyfriend, and he holds you close, almost cradling you. “Let us get you cleaned up-”

“You _owe_ me,” you say, pushing him with your foot, and then look at your clothes on the floor. “Hey, you owe me a new shirt, that was one of my favourites!” He smiles at you gratefully, and you kiss him. “Wow. Uh… that was extremely good.”

“…but I am not obsessed with sex,” he says, playfully, and you roll your eyes.

“ _Sure_ …!”


End file.
